


for the last time

by rhodee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst and Feels, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Tony Stark, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Sad Ending, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony's really bad with feelings, Unrequited Love, a little embarrassing to say the least, au where infinity war never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23510971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodee/pseuds/rhodee
Summary: A 5+1 times on unrequited love, in which there are five instances where Loki thinks Anthony likes him, and one instance where he realizes it’s the opposite.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 37
Kudos: 129





	1. 1. A Dagger

**Author's Note:**

> turns out i'm a sucker for angst, which is why i present you with this.  
> time for tony to be the bad guy :) 
> 
> annnd chapters are fairly short, probably >1k because it's a chapter for each day in their lives and well, i'm hoping i'll finish this within the next two days.  
> enjoy some loki/tony angst!

“Stark.” 

Loki feels his voice cut across the room like a knife - sharp and cold - spoken with just enough pressure to grab Tony’s attention without startling the inventor. It comes from past experience, of course, when Tony nearly severed his fingers the first time Loki popped up without warning. 

“ _Juuust_ a sec, Lokes,” Tony replied, his back still towards Loki and fiddling with something the god couldn’t yet see. Loki waits, only slightly irate that Tony wasn’t giving him the attention he wanted. 

When Tony turns around, it’s with one hand behind his back, and Loki feels an unwanted wave of unease creeping up on him. He never really had any reason to fear, or even _doubt_ Tony - the inventor always had his back, even when the majority of the team treated him like a hostile force. If anything, when the rest of the Avengers acted almost indifferent to his presence, it was always Tony who made him feel like he belonged there. 

It was Tony who pulled him into conversation, Tony who brought up topics that Loki wanted to talk about, Tony who - in the middle of a conversation - would still provide a backstory under the guise of a “weren’t they the ones who-?” because he knew Loki was mostly out of the loop, and Tony who’d more than often team up with Loki to pull a harmless prank on one of their teammates. 

Tony’s efforts were subtle at first, and then transitioned to something that was too hard to ignore. For Loki, it seemed as if Tony was the only person inclined to be his friend, especially while comparing it to his other interactions with Tony’s teammates. 

_They’re your teammates too, Lokes,_ Tony had once corrected him. He supposes it’s okay to call him Tony’s teammates when Tony can’t hear his thoughts. 

Maybe the slight uneasiness showed up on Loki’s face, or maybe it didn’t, because Tony was just as good at reading him as Loki was good at reading anybody, (Years of running a billion dollar business and interacting with influential figures from all over the world would do that, he figures) because Tony puts his free hand up in an act of surrender. 

“I’m not out to get you, Lokes,” Tony lets out a small laugh, _but his hand is still behind his back,_ “Thought I’d surprise you…” Tony trails off as he brings his hand out from behind his back, opening his palm as he does so. 

It’s a dagger. 

Tony made it for him. 

Loki doesn’t even have to touch it to know that it’s sharper than the ones he’s used to. It’s metallic, stone-like sheen looked dangerous under the lights of the workshop, fitted with a dark green handle, and something that resembled an emerald was fixed to its butt. The weapon seemed to be buzzing with power, and it looked absolutely beautiful, rich and yet _so deadly._ Loki had always known of Tony’s fine craftsmanship, but to see something so _personalized_ and so _fitting_ for Loki - he wondered how long it took for Tony to make it. 

“Do you like it? It’s made of Uru - _surprise! -_ and well, I wasn’t really going to use the emerald but I figured you’d like it. Is it too flashy? It’s too flashy isn’t it?” Tony brings it closer to his face to inspect it, giving it a second before he’s rambling again. “Of course, it would work better with magic, and since I’m nowhere near to being an expert, I thought I’d leave that to you. Took me around a week - not my proudest record, but getting the machinery was a _chore._ But yeah, dagger for you.” The inventor holds it out again, and this time, he looks hesitant. _Unsure._ Loki isn’t used to seeing that on Tony’s face. 

“Tony. _Tony,_ it’s _beautiful,”_ Loki says, letting the admiration flow freely into his face. The god takes a few steps forward, and the closer he gets, the more he feels its power. He’s just out of arm's length, and the dagger is quite literally bursting with unbridled energy. He’s fairly sure Tony can’t sense its power, that it’s just another cool alien metal to the inventor, just a _means_ to an object. 

When he takes it into his possession, the dagger is light and _heavy_ and _buzzing_ and Loki let’s his seiðr flow through, allowing the weapon to familiarize itself with his magic. It feels like a part of him is integrating itself into the weapon, marking Loki’s control over it, like a wild animal being tamed into ownership. He wonders if this is what Thor felt the first time he lifted Mjölnir. Suddenly, the dagger feels perfectly weighed, balanced and fitting just right in his grasp. 

He looks up at Tony, and the inventor’s face is a mixture of confusion and curiosity. He’s waiting for Loki to say something, and Loki isn’t quite sure how he can express himself. With centuries of being alive, centuries of being referred to as Silvertongue and centuries of _learning_ what to say, and when to say it, this one mortal effectively rendered him speechless. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” is all he can finally say, and he tries to surface the appreciation - _the respect -_ he feels. There’s nothing else he can say, except hope that Tony realizes just how much this act of kindness means to the god. 

“No biggie,” Tony shrugs it off. _Not important_ \- as if this was something he _always did._ “I remember you talking about daggers fused with magic, how they can never be used against the owner - almost like it had a mind of its own. Then it was just a matter of some research and asking Thor to get Uru from ...Never-the-ville? Anyways, he refused at first, but I brought up the whole ‘shield-brothers’ thing, and _ta-da!”_ Tony splayed out his hands as he said the last word, holding the comical position for a moment before finishing with a: “Besides, I wanted to do this for you.” 

_For you._


	2. 2. A Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when i said i wouldn't go beyond 1k words per chapter? yeah, neither do i.

Loki smelled it the second the elevator doors slid open - mind immediately switching to high alert. Of all the times he’s come up to Tony’s penthouse, he’s never been greeted with the smell of freshly cooked food. Most of their meals came from the tower’s kitchen below, other than the few instances of take-away that Tony Stark was a proud record holder of. 

Today, however, the smell of brewed coffee, bread and eggs, amongst other things - meat, he supposes - wafted from the direction of the makeshift kitchen. The smell only grew stronger as Loki made his way to the kitchen, soon accompanied with the metal clanking of utensils and the sizzling of food on hot oil. 

Loki would say he’s an expert at keeping his feelings in check, even more so when it comes to being surprised. A slight widening of his eyes were often the only indication of the god being caught off-guard, and _yet,_ when his eyes landed on the figure who’s back was to Loki, humming and flipping eggs on a pan - a not-so-subtle exclaim escaped his lips. 

“ _Stark?_!” 

And, just like that, Tony whips his head towards Loki and the omelette that was being flipped falls from mid-air and on the marble counter with a _splat._

It was comical the way Tony whipped his head back just as fast, shoulders slouching at the sight of the egg and turning back to Loki looking like a kicked puppy. 

Loki couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face. He’d never seen Tony do anything that even remotely resembled cooking, because save for the heating up leftovers, Tony had never even glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Considering what was probably the first time in ages that Tony was cooking, he’s surprised the kitchen isn’t a black, ashen mess at the moment. 

“Productive morning, I assume?” He teased, sliding into one of the stools that bordered the kitchen island. 

Tony gave him a look that could be translated into a ‘ _very funny’_ before his face softened and he sighed, looking down at the now empty pan. “That was the fifth one I dropped.” 

“And how many did you not drop?” Loki asks innocently. He had a feeling he knew the answer, but Loki was having too much fun at the shorter man’s expense. Tony diverts his gaze, and Loki follows it to an empty plate on the island. 

He laughs; there’s a hint of a smile on Tony’s face. 

“Well then,” he finally says, putting on an air of mock superiority, “since you’re too proud to ask for help, I might as well offer mine.” He purposely avoids looking at Tony, but he could feel the inventor's eyes on him as he made his way around the island, and towards him. 

“After all,” Loki smiles, unable to resist the mischievous tilt to his voice as he finally looks at Tony, “a little magic never hurt anybody.” 

Tony opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it and shuts it just as quick. He realizes only a few seconds later - thanks to Loki’s expectant stare - that it’s chef mode again, and the inventor hurries to get another egg. 

Loki takes the frying pan that Tony had placed on the island sometime during their conversation and places it on the stove. He can’t figure out the buttons, so he shoots a spark of his seiðr and one of the burners light up in green flame. He supposes it’ll work. 

Didn’t think of the consequences, however, because Tony - _genius as he is -_ sees the dancing green flame and his first instinct to Loki’s little trick turned out to be tremendously disappointing for a man of his repute.

“Hey - _woah._ What _is_ that?” Tony doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, because his hand is just as eager to know what that is and - all intelligence quotient out the window - he reaches forward to touch it. 

_Panic._

Loki lunges forward to swipe Tony’s hand away, and the flame - suddenly unrestrained from Loki’s lack of focus - burns the mage’s own forearm. 

“ _Fool!”_ Loki all but _hisses_ , gripping Tony’s hand in a vice like grip that was sure to constrict the flow of blood. His skin feels like it’s sizzling, the millions of nerve endings on his forearm sending flashing red messages to his brain, but he’s more focused on how _brainless_ Tony had to be to nearly cause permanent damage to his hand. “You absolute _idiot._ You could have _burned-”_ He’s not able to complete his string of curses, because Tony cuts him off with an equally panicked tone. 

“Lokes, your _hand!_ Oh my _God -_ that looks _disgusting.”_ Glances up and Loki, and then, _“_ Shit _._ That probably didn’t help. I’m _so_ sorry-” and Tony - with all the strength in his short stature - drags Loki till the refrigerator where he pulls out an icepack and quite literally _slams_ it down on the burn. 

“Stark-” 

“Frankly - and I’m being modest here - I’m not an expert on burns or anything - I mean, I _think_ I’m not - but that looked _really_ bad-” 

“I’m fi-” 

“- and I am so sorry. Try not to stab me. I _really_ wasn’t planning on having that dagger used against me. Well, not anytime _soon_ anyway-” 

“ _Stark!”_ Loki finally snaps, and the inventor shuts up mid-ramble. “I’m fine.” 

Loki uses his other hand to lift Tony’s hand from where he’s crushing the ice pack against the god’s arm. His hands are bigger than Tony’s, he notes. He quite likes it. 

“Enhanced healing factors, remember?” He says, looking down at the now healing - only slightly reddish - burn and allowing Tony to follow his gaze. “I’m fine.” He insists again. 

He decides against telling Tony that he used his seiðr to mask the severity of the burn. It likely won’t end well. 

Loki’s suddenly too aware of his own hand holding Tony’s, and by the looks of it, Tony realized it the same second too. They let go of each other at the same time, Tony’s hand which held Loki’s burnt one, and Loki’s hand which held Tony’s other hand. Tony manages to take it up a notch and pointedly clears his throat too - because Tony Stark can just never be _subtle,_ can he? 

“Uh.” Tony says, looking around the kitchen with some unknown purpose. Then finally: “Coffee?” 

“Yes, please.” Loki answers, and then waits as Tony moves to pour a cup from the kettle that had been sitting on the stove. 

“Careful,” Tony says, holding the cup with the handle out so it’s easier for Loki to take. “It’s hot.” 

Loki’s eyes snap up to meet Tony, and there’s the undeniable glint of wicked cheekiness that makes it almost impossible for Loki to keep a straight face. _Almost._

“Anthony Stark, did you just joke at the expense of my severely burned arm?” 

Loki relishes the moment he sees Tony _pale -_ face draining of all colour - as his eyes widen. He can almost sense the thoughts whizzing through Tony’s head: _I fucked up, I fucked upIfuckedup._

Loki even waits another second before he starts grinning, and in a swift movement of fright to relief, Tony registers the turn of events: mouth dropping into an unbelievable gape. He doesn’t let Loki dwell on that expression anymore, just giving him a small shove in response - small, because he figures Tony probably didn’t want Loki to spill the coffee and burn himself _again._

“I believe now we’re even,” Loki says, still grinning, and he loves the expression on Tony’s face a little too much to let go. 

“Ass,” Tony mutters, but there's a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips that makes Loki’s heart swell with warmth. “Anyway, if your attitude towards eggs have been ruined as of today - credits to yours truly - I still cooked some bacon. I wasn’t sure if you liked your bread toasted or not, so there’s both.” 

When Tony walks past him, there’s a - deliberate? - graze of shoulders, and for the sake of his own sanity, Loki decides not to dwell on the contact. 

“Wait,” Loki suddenly says, because he wasn’t sure if he had heard Tony right. “You made breakfast for _me_?” 

Tony looks like a deer caught in headlights at the question, and Loki wishes he could take back the question if it meant wiping that look of discomfort off of Tony’s face. It takes Tony a while to recover from the question. 

“Uh. Yeah, you usually come up here around this time. And I was already awake,” Tony finally says, but it seemed unconvincing, even for the inventor himself. “ _And_ hungry,” Tony adds as an afterthought, “So.” He vaguely motions to the kitchen. 

Loki raises an eyebrow, and then: “Of course.” He brings the coffee up to his lips and starts sipping it excruciatingly slowly. He knew it would most likely make Tony uncomfortable - whether it was the indifference in his tone, or letting his response fill the silence and making Tony mull over his own words. He can feel Tony’s gaze on him, and Loki’s too hesitant to turn and make eye-contact; too hesitant to evoke the reality of things - _feelings_? - that’s desperate to make itself known.

It’s a rash move, but Loki needs to _understand_ what’s happening between him and Tony before he gets ahead of himself. 

Well, that is, if he already isn’t.


	3. 3. A Violation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dj khaled voice* anotha one

Loki didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the god found himself seeking Tony’s companionship at the oddest of hours. Sometimes, when he’s reading a book, he wonders about the kind of books Tony would have read, or when he’s watching a movie, his mind would wander to the constant film references Tony would bring up at least 5 times a day. When he’s lying awake on his bed at night, the soft moonlight streaking through the windows, he wonders if Tony’s sleeping; wonders if he’s wide-eyed, and restless, and  _ focused  _ and neck deep in his workshop. 

_ Does Tony sleep enough?  _ He wonders. He knows JARVIS takes good care of Tony, constantly watching out for the inventor and updating him on the slightest of disturbances. He  _ knows  _ JARVIS takes good care of Tony, and  _ yet,  _ Loki finds himself padding out of his quarters and making his way to Tony’s workshop. 

There are two ways he supposes this will go: either Tony won’t be in his workshop, and the glass doors to Tony’s workshop will remain shut - courtesy of JARVIS -  _ or,  _ Tony will be in his workshop and the glass doors will slide open with ease, almost like it serves as an invitation to engage a conversation with Tony, if anything. 

The penthouse is empty, the only light coming from the thin stretch of warm lights attached to the ceiling around the penthouse. It illuminated the penthouse with a dim, comfortable glow that serves it’s purpose of not being too harsh on the eyes, and yet bright enough to see where one’s heading. 

There’s a flight of stairs that lead down to Tony’s workshop, which was just as accessible from the elevator, but there was a small part of Loki that hoped Tony would be in the penthouse, sprawled across the couch. He doesn’t hear much movement from the workshop - not that Tony hasn’t soundproofed it - but Loki could often feel the vibrations of the machinery even from a distance away. 

Tonight, it was silent. 

The lights in the workshop were dimmed, lacking the usual movements of Tony’s robots or even Tony himself. Loki was just about to go back up the stairs when the glass doors silently slid open, furrowed eyebrows suspiciously eyeing the movement. Was Tony in there after all? 

_ Maybe he fell asleep inside.  _

Loki was careful not to make a sound as he stepped inside, eyes scanning the entirety of the workshop for a sleeping lump. There was no movement; just the eerie silence except for the hum of the machines that were probably running through the walls and the floor. He stood there for a while, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting before he started moving around, careful not to stumble on anything. He wouldn’t want Tony to wake up to a rather unflattering image of Loki sprawled on his workshop floor because he tripped on something as silly as a metal rod. 

He doesn’t know how long he stood there -  _ what was he waiting for?  _ \- but he marvelled at the slow realization that seeped into his mind. The fact that, this is just  _ any  _ other room in the penthouse - quiet, absent of human presence, almost  _ dead.  _ And yet, Tony manages to bring it alive every time he’s here. The untraceable noises of machinery, the squeak of his robots, the clanging of metals and the occasional hiss of something being burnt - and in the midst of all the chaos, there’s Tony.  _ Alive  _ and  _ bright  _ and  _ buzzing  _ with excitement, his love towards machines just as great as Loki’s own love for magic. 

“Lokes?” He hears Tony’s voice call out to him, and Loki stills, snapping back into reality. It takes him a second of looking around the workshop to realize the voice came behind him, as in -  _ Tony  _ was behind him and not inside the workshop like Loki had presumed. Because then- JARVIS let him in? 

Loki turns around, taking in the sight of Tony who looked like he’d just woken up. His black tank top contrasted against the bright blue light of his arc reactor - it always reminded Loki of a beacon in the night - and his pants were long enough to be pooling around his feet. Tony’s dark hair was sticking up in all directions, and the slight squint in his eyes only added to Loki’s confirmation that the inventor was asleep. 

“JARVIS told me you were here. Did you want something?” Tony asks, following his previous question when Loki just continued to look like dead fish. Or so he guesses. 

“No, I couldn’t sleep. I came here looking for you,”  _ Gods,  _ that sounded creepy. “JARVIS let me in?” It was more of a question, because Loki wasn’t sure if Tony’s most priced creation made a mistake. 

“ _ Oh,”  _ Tony says, as if something just clicked into place and Loki raises his brows in question. “Oh. Right. I - uh - kinda gave you unrestricted access to the workshop? I dunno, guess I figured - since you like coming here so much - that it’ll just be easier for you. For, you know, if there are nights you can’t sleep.” A pause, and then: “Like today.” 

It takes Loki a moment to register Tony’s words. Tony - who suddenly looks embarrassed and keeps flicking his eyes away from Loki’s. 

Access to the workshop? 

Allowing him to  _ violate  _ Tony’s space like that?

“Stark,” Loki starts, speaking slowly, because he himself couldn’t wrap his mind around what Tony just told him, but he had to confirm.  _ Had to confirm.  _ “Are you of sane mind?” 

“What?” Tony manages to look only slightly offended - a small frown creasing his forehead and knitting his brows together - before he wiped it off his face. “Yeah. I am - obviously. I mean, frankly, a little sleepy but pretty sure all’s good up here,” He finished tapping his finger on the side of his head. 

Stark is giving Loki access to, what is essentially, his  _ mind.  _ With the ease of just opening a door and letting someone into something so valuable and  _ personal  _ and  _ fragile.  _ Loki cannot think of anything he’s done that deserves this act of vulnerability from Tony, can’t think of anything that makes  _ Tony  _ want to do this for him. 

“Hey.” Tony suddenly says, “Don’t get emotional on me now. I’m smart, but I’m not equipped to deal with a melodramatic god.” 

Loki realizes his emotions are probably on display like an open children's book, and yet, it’s nothing compared to what Tony just did for him. He pushes the thought aside, if not for him, then for Tony. 

“I apologize if I woke you.” Loki finally says, because he isn’t quite sure if a  _ thank you  _ was the best way to go if his emotions are going to start spilling again. 

“Don’t be silly,” Tony brushes off the apology like it meant  _ nothing _ , as if he didn’t mind being awoken. Or was it only because it was Loki? He decides not to dwell on the thought, bushing down any feelings of pleasure he felt. “Besides, I was awake.” 

_ Lie,  _ Loki thinks, but he doesn’t comment on it.


	4. 4. A Bleed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miiiight have gone a teensy bit overboard with this one but, sorry not sorry.

They never saw the infiltration coming until it was quite  _ literally  _ flashing in front of them. 

He should have  _ known  _ something would go wrong. Things were going  _ way  _ too smoothly for his liking, and all it took was a mere second for Loki’s whole world to fall apart. 

It was only Dr. Banner, Tony and Romanoff who were in the penthouse, with the assassin flicking through the channels before Loki could even register the images on the television. Dr. Banner seemed to have zoned out on the television, tired of Romanoff’s incessant flipping - Loki was close to being in Banner’s position if this went on any longer - while Tony sat between Banner and Loki, swiping through his phone and using his other hand to bite down on the sandwich that took around 15 minutes to make. 

Loki hears Romanoff’s phone give out a small ring, which makes her stop her channel surfing to pull out her phone as soon as the title of ‘Breaking News!’ flashes red on the television. It was enough to bring Banner out of his daze, and even making Tony look up from his phone, only mildly interested. 

There’s a female reporter saying something about Tony Stark - which wasn’t all that surprising, save for the panicked tone in her voice that only seemed to be increasing with each word. Just as soon as she finished, multiple gun-like shots rang out from the television, and the reporter ducks in fear of her life.  _ Amateur,  _ Loki inwardly scoffs. Given her surroundings, it would have been in her best interest to run. The camera, after a few seconds of shaky footage, pans to the source of the gunshots. 

His eyes land on the figure of the man whose hands are possessing weapons that are not of this world, and the cold look in the man’s eyes that are often reserved for warmth and comfort. He can hear Romanoff conversing on the phone with somebody, but Loki’s own eyes are glued to the television as Tony Stark starts firing his weapons at innocent civilians. 

Beside him, Tony -  _ his  _ Tony - had frozen mid-bite of his sandwich. His eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his skull - a rare look on Tony, if Loki could be honest. 

“That’s-” Tony starts speaking with a mouthful of bread, remembers his manners and gulps it down before continuing, dumbfounded “ _ That’s not me.”  _

In the television, the not-Tony continues to fire his weapons - randomly, but it does the job - as civilians start falling victim to the shots. There’s no sight of blood anywhere, so Loki assumes there’s no worry about the weapon penetrating the victim and causing internal damage. But then again, it must be doing  _ something  _ so he can’t really rule out anything. 

“It’s a Skrull attack,” Romanoff says, hanging up her phone. “They’re attacking under the guise of the Avengers and other civilians.” She finishes just as Captain America joins the not-Tony and the duo start shooting together. 

“Shit.  _ Fuck.”  _ Tony strings out a number of curses, takes a pause and adds a few more for good measure. “JARVIS, get the Mark 46 ready.” 

“Stark, you need to wait for Barton and Rogers. We need a plan of attack.” Romanoff stands up as soon as Tony does. “And we can’t even reach Thor.” Loki internally curses, this would be the worst time for Thor to come in during the middle of the attack. Thor seeing another Thor likely won’t end well for the immediate vicinity. 

“Miss Romanoff, did you know repetition is the lowest form of repartee?” 

“Stark-” Romanoff starts with an exasperated sigh, but Tony cuts her off. 

“Because I  _ have  _ said this before.We have a plan.  _ Attack.”  _ As he heads to the tower’s landing, he continues speaking. “The Skrulls can’t copy DNA, only our physical features right? That means, you, Brucie,” He turns around to point a finger at Banner, “it’s time to go green. And you, Lokes,” he shifts his gaze to Loki. “you’re our eyes and ears out there. They can’t replicate your magic, and you’re the best bet we have.” 

Loki tries not to blush at the subtle compliment and instead, gives a quick nod. In a matter of five seconds, Tony had flown out of the tower, Bruce hulked out whilst jumping off the tower, and Loki merely vanished. But not before giving Romanoff a cocky smile and a wave of his fingers. 

The first thing Loki does is check if the civilians are alive, and except for their weak pulse, they seemed alright. 

“Stark, the civilians are alive. They have a weak pulse, but they’re unharmed. Be careful when you engage with the Skrulls,” Loki speaks into the earpiece, and above him, he can see Stark’s red streak zooming past. 

“Roger that, Maleficent.” 

“And make sure you tell Banner,” Loki says, preferring to leave interacting with the best to Tony rather than himself. All based on past experience of course - he could take down Banner in a second if he wanted. 

“Got it. And what about dessert, sir?” Tony’s sarcastic response comes through and Loki can’t hold back his response. 

“Just don’t kill yourself.” He says, and the smile lingers on his face as he teleports to a nearby roof. 

“Are you guys done flirting over the comms?” Clint’s voice interrupts their moment, and he only gets silence from both parties. 

Loki spots Captain America running across the street, shield in hand, and not that far away, there’s a rather awkward looking Thor, devoid of Mjölnir and his usual air of idiocy, but holding what looks to be one of the weapons the Skrulls had. 

“Rogers, be wary. There’s a Skrull around the corner.” 

“Who is it?” Steve asks, but gets his question answered the next second. 

He shifts to another rooftop, sees Natasha taking down a Banner-sized Skrull, and moves along. Two blocks away, Barton’s leaning against a car and using it as a barrier from the irregular shots a Skrull-Captain America was shooting in his direction. The archer tried to get a few shots in, but the Skrull was surprisingly faster than anticipated. 

There’s a visible relief in Barton’s face all of a sudden, and Loki follows his gaze to Romanoff who’s coming to Barton’s aid and equipped with her Glock, aimed at the Skrull. 

_ Wait- that isn’t right.  _

_ “ _ Looks like Captain Skrull’s got something against me,” Barton jokes to Romanoff, the relief clear in his voice through the comms. 

“Barton,  _ that’s not Romanoff-!”  _ Loki rushes to teleport to the scene, but Barton beats him to the defeat. It only took the archer a second to pierce an arrow straight through the Skrull’s heart. Pale skin moved in waves across its body, bringing out the sickly green of its original form.

“Nat would just be offended,” he says, giving a pointed look to the incapacitated Skrull.

Loki suddenly realizes he hasn’t heard Tony’s quips in a while, and he’s immediately on high alert. Panic rushing in, he starts calling out for Tony through the comms only for there to be no response from the inventor. The god starts moving around the radius of the city, blinking in and out of existence from rooftops, until he finally catches sight of an empty Iron Man suit. A few feet away, Tony lies unconscious on the pavement, and there’s a Skrull-Tony dangerously making its way towards Tony, weapon aimed at the motionless inventor. 

A surge of panic fuels his entire body as he teleports to the scene, flinging the Skrull away with one flick of his hand, and kneeling beside Tony. 

“Stark,” Loki whispers, cupping the cheek of the shorter man and using his thumb to wipe a spot of blood away from his lip. There’s no response, so Loki tries again, voice laced with urgency, “ _ Anthony.”  _

Tony’s still alive, he can sense his beating heart, but the inventor gives no sign of waking up. From a few feet away, the Tony-Skrull gets up, limping on one leg and hands up in surrender. 

“Lokes. It’s  _ me,”  _ the Skrull says, and it sounded almost  _ exactly  _ like Tony that Loki nearly fell for it - but there was fear laced in his words, and Tony Stark was never one to be scared. 

“ _ You dare,”  _ Loki all but  _ hisses  _ at the being - the  _ audacity  _ to wear the mask of someone he  _ cares  _ for. “I will  _ gut  _ you like the filthy  _ animal  _ you are.” Loki conjures the dagger Tony made for him into his palm, brandishing the weapon in between him and the Skrull. 

“Hey.  _ Hey.  _ Easy there, Maleficent.” The Skrull says,  _ obviously  _ referencing the name Tony called Loki mere  _ minutes  _ ago. Because that’s how their memory worked - the fresher the memory, the more they knew it.

But the Skrull knows its identity is compromised, so why is it still  _ trying?  _

The unconscious Tony stirs against Loki’s hand, eyes fluttering until they finally snap open. Warm brown eyes meet his green ones, and in that split second Loki knew who the Skrull really was. 

He lifts the knife, and with an animalistic grunt, flings it towards the Skrull that had its arms up in surrender. It pierces the Skrull right in its gut, and there’s a choked gasp as it looks down at the dagger sticking out of its abdomen. It’s not a fatal wound, Loki knows that, but it’s a painful one. He wanted the Skrull to  _ suffer _ . 

Below him, Tony smiles cheekily. “Thanks,” he says, and there’s a wave of tanned skin into pale; brown hair bleeding into black, and loose pants and a shirt being replaced with black and green armor. The smile is suddenly chilling, capable of freezing blood and-  _ Oh no.  _

_ Tony.  _

Loki whips his head up, sees Tony who’s fallen to his knees and breathing heavily out of his mouth. Crimson red is spreading from where the dagger has pierced flesh -  _ dagger.  _ The same dagger Tony carved for him, forged from his own hands as a _ gift for Loki  _ is currently extracting the  _ life  _ out of him - and Loki wants to laugh at the irony of things. 

He knocks out the Skrull with one swift punch and teleports beside Tony to catch him just as the inventor loses balance. Tony’s trying to form words with his mouth, lips parted and moving and  _ struggling,  _ and Loki doesn’t even know what to  _ say.  _

“Gods,  _ Anthony.  _ Please forgive me for this,” is all he says before he teleports them back to the tower. The Avengers can handle the Skrulls. 

“It’s okay,” Tony says, and  _ no _ , Loki thinks,  _ it’s not, you ridiculous piece of shit.  _ “I’m  _ fine.” _

_ “ _ Stop  _ lying  _ to me,” Loki grits out, and continues. “This will hurt.”

“I can take it.” And then: “ _ Fuuuuuuuck.”  _

In one swift motion, Loki had removed the knife from the wound and channelled all of his seiðr into closing the wound. He had to stop the bleeding first before Tony bleeds out on the floor of his own tower. 

Tony’s eyes were screwed shut, and there was no doubt the inventor was in extreme pain - after all, that  _ was  _ Loki’s intention for the Tony-Impersonator-Skrull-who-actually-turned-out-to-be-Tony. He can’t imagine the betrayal Tony felt - even if it were only for moments - to die at the hands of his own craft. Can’t imagine the betrayal he felt when Loki thought him to be the  _ impostor _ . He could apologize to Tony for a millennia and yet, betrayal is one thing that can only be forgiven, never forgotten. Loki wants to  _ cry. _

“I am so sorry, Anthony. This is my fault. If I had only  _ waited-” _

“Hey,” The inventor cuts him off. “Not your fault they duplicated me so beautifully. Oh, keep calling me Anthony and I might forgive you.” 

“Anthony,” Loki says, and Tony, his eyes still shut, smiles. Loki’s glad the shorter man can’t see the fond expression on the god’s face, that even after all this, from the verge of  _ death,  _ he’d still make light of a situation, still illuminate things around him.

_ His Anthony,  _ Loki thinks,  _ always bringing things alive.  _


	5. 5. A Betrayal

The aftermath of the Skrull invasion wasn’t all that great - for Loki, anyway. 

Tony was expected to be on bedrest for a week, because though Loki did his best to close the wound, the internal damage was far too massive. Tony’s movements had to be minimal in order to let his body heal completely, and because of that, the inventor never got out of his room. 

So Loki was left to deal with the consequences of his actions. Only the action that almost killed Tony, not the one where Loki saved his life. Or Barton’s - for that matter. 

The Avengers blamed him - he knew that - and their discomfort and uneasy glances around him were nothing but confirmation. They probably thought Loki had intended to kill Tony, betray the team by wiping out their most resourceful team-member. It would essentially bring the team down to their knees. Tony was their most valuable asset - literally too - and the team knew that, knew that Loki also knew that. 

They didn’t even allow him to visit Tony- well, not that they could have done much to stop him - but every time Loki entered the penthouse, one or two of the Avengers would be seen lounging around. He didn’t think much of it the first time, only mildly irritated that they would see him going to Tony’s bedroom. But following that, the penthouse was just _never_ empty, and the last thing Loki wanted was the Avengers asking him why he was headed to Tony’s bedroom. 

So he stopped going to the penthouse altogether. He could have just as easily teleported into Tony’s room, but the inventor had made him promise not to do so while in the tower since it was just ‘ _a heart attack waiting to happen.’_ So there Loki was, holed up in his room and waiting for the week to end. 

Well - he tried to, at least. The Avengers were quite literally testing his patience. _Loki_ had been the one to save Tony, he’s earned the right to go check up on the inventor. And, in all honesty, he _missed_ Tony. He missed the soft smiles Tony gave him, missed how Tony’s gaze often lingered on him while the god pretended not to notice, missed the coffee brown eyes that acted as a beacon of comfort. Loki loved basking under Tony’s gaze, loved being the centre of Tony’s attention. Unlike the rest of the team, Loki preferred Tony’s incessant chatter pover the silence of his own room. Save for Banner - most of them time - Loki often observed the subtle groans and eye-rolling whenever Tony spoke without pause. 

It was just past 3:00AM when Loki made up his mind to visit Tony. He teleports right outside Tony’s bedroom door and, from his vantage point, spots Barton passed out on the couch. Barton’s profile was facing Loki, almost as the archer had fallen asleep on watch. _Loki was right._

Making minimal sound, he pushes open the door. The room was suddenly illuminated with a dim light from the hallway which went dark as soon as Loki closed the door. He could spot a make-shit cocoon on the bed, no doubt Tony was fast asleep. The god had previously overhead the Avengers discussing Tony’s medication that had him sleeping for longer hours. 

Aware that JARVIS was watching him like a hawk, Loki cautiously takes a few steps forward. He didn’t want the AI thinking he’s a threat to his creator. 

“Stark?” Loki hesitantly calls out. 

No response. 

He goes closer until he’s right at Tony’s bedside, where he can see brown hair peeking out from the top of the cocoon. Loki resists the urge to run his fingers through them. 

He stares at Tony’s sleeping figure for a while before mentally congratulating himself for this great plan of his. _Of course Stark would be asleep, it’s three in the morning._

But.

He’s made it this far, he might as well give it a try. 

Loki sits down on the empty space beside Tony, heart thudding against his ribcage because he doesn’t know if he’s crossing a _line_ \- being _here_ , in Tony’s personal space, when he’s at his most _vulnerable_. 

Maybe Loki’s weight shifted the bed, because a moment later, Tony’s cocoon stirs ever so slightly. Loki grabs that chance to whisper his name again. 

“Stark.” 

The cocoon stirs again, and the cocoon is pulled down to reveal Tony’s head peeking out from the top. The inventor looks adorable even in the dark, Loki thinks. 

There’s a small groan as a partially awake Tony frowns at Loki’s figure, and then finally: “Lokes?” 

“Yes,” is all Loki says. 

More movement as Tony unwraps himself from the cocoon and sits up, bringing his palm up to cover a yawn. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” Loki says again. He wonders what happened to the rest of his vocabulary. 

“Good.” Tony shuts his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, more awake now. “What’s the time?” 

“It’s a little past three.”

“In the morning?” Loki figures Tony needs a little more time to catch up to his brain, but he nods anyway.

“How is your wound?” 

“Uhh…” Tony takes a moment to look down at his stomach, and then looks back to Loki again. “It’s healing better than I thought, actually. I’m guessing that’s your doing?” 

“That makes sense. Your wound must have retained my magic when I closed it.” 

“My body can do that?” Tony’s voice goes incredulously high, suddenly wide-awake.

“If my seidr is familiar with your body, then yes.” Loki smiles, and he suddenly realizes how much he missed being in Tony’s presence. 

“I missed you,” Loki blurts out before he could think of holding back. Tony hadn’t expected it either, eyes widening slightly in a manner that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else. Loki had familiarized himself with every part and movement of Loki’s body as if it was his own.

“You’re always welcome here, Lokes.” Tony’s voice is soft, and so oblivious of what his teammates were upto behind his back. Loki isn’t one to cause rifts between team members, but he can’t help the scoff that escapes his lips. He doesn’t respond to the raised eyebrow from Tony, and instead turns to face Tony completely. If Loki had inched closer in the process, neither of them commented on it. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Loki starts, hesitant. “For being so kind to me. I know it must not have been easy - especially for you - but I am thankful for being under your roof. The rest of the Avenger’s don’t care for me much, except for Thor,” he mutters the last part rather bitterly and continues, “because I see how guarded they are when I’m around. And you’re the only one who hasn’t been so. You _trust_ me.” Loki watches as a flurry of emotions swim through Tony’s face, neither of them staying for more than a moment. Finally, Tony speaks.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me, Lokes.” Tony places a hand on Loki’s knee, and Loki feels instant relief from the contact. “There’s no reason to be formal about it. Besides, I _want_ to make you feel at home here. It’s the least I can do for you.” 

“It’s the most anyone’s ever done for me,” Loki admits, and when he meets Tony’s eyes there’s a strange shift in the air. Suddenly, Tony’s all that he sees. And Tony - who’s always been so open, so inviting and so caring - is looking at Loki like he’s the most precious thing. 

Loki’s eyes flick down to his parted lips, and there’s something so _familiar,_ so _inviting_ about them, he doesn’t feel himself leaning forward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello cliffhanger


	6. +1. A Touch

His lips are pressed against Tony’s, and a rush of bliss vibrates through his body. Rough stubble tickling Loki’s chin, Tony’s lips feel warm and soft and fitting against his own, complemented with a hint of Tony’s breath mint. Loki has to bring his hand up to cup Tony’s cheek so he can steady himself from the rush. This is all he needs, he thinks, all he wants.

It takes him a second to realize Tony’s lack of response, takes him another to open his eyes and see Tony’s wide, horrified, ones. Tony recoils immediately, as if Loki’s lips had burnt him, and the look in Tony’s eyes was all Loki needed to confirm the harsh truth. 

" _L_ _oki_ ,” Tony all but hisses, wiping away at his mouth, _wiping away Loki’s touch, “_ what the _hell?”_

Loki’s never felt pain like this before. 

Tony’s eyes are blazing, and there are hints of _fear_ and _sadness_ and _disgust_ and _all_ the emotions he had never wanted to see on Tony’s face. Especially not when he looked at Loki. 

The inside of his skull is a beehive, and someone whacked it with a stick and now the bees are terrified and buzzing and throbbing within his skull walls. Loki can’t _think_ , can’t _focus_ on the thoughts racing inside his head because all he hears is a deafening buzz. 

_Numb._

Too late he realizes that he had taken all of Tony’s friendly smiles and glances for granted, and to have Tony look at him like how he used to was a blessing that Loki never quite deserved. 

_He’s lost the one friend he has on the team, lost the one person he trusted._

And it was his fault. 

“I-I-I’m sorry - I misread the situation. I shouldn’t-” Loki’s stumbling and stuttering over his own words, and _pathetic. This is pathetic._ It wasn’t supposed to be like this - he was better than this, could _read_ people better than this. “I shouldn’t have-”

“You’ve misread _everything!”_ Tony nearly shouts while cutting him off, and Loki jerks at the sudden escalation in Tony’s voice. Brown eyes are wide and frantic, piercing him with a glare that makes Loki shiver to his bones. _Mistake. MistakemistakeMISTAKE._

Tony takes a pause to bring his palm to his face, and drags it down. A sign of resignation. _He’s given up on me - just like everyone else._

Quieter now, Tony speaks: “I don’t see you that way, Loki. Not the way you want me to. Not after - not when you threw me out of my tower, not when there was a part of you that wanted to kill me. I- You’re good company Loki, but - _fuck_ \- I can’t do this with you.” 

Loki feels his tongue weighing him down, betraying him from refuting the inventors words. Because Tony _knows,_ he _knows_ that Loki wasn’t behind it - they had _talked_ about it, and Loki had nearly broken down over it and Tony had come and enveloped him in the most affectionate hug Loki had ever recieved. He wants to go _back_ , wants to take this all _back_ but it’s too late. He’s crossed a line and the terror in Tony’s eyes has already burned itself into Loki’s brain. 

“Anthony-” 

“Stop. Don’t call me that.” Tony’s eyes are screwed shut. Erasing memories, erasing _Loki._ “You need to leave.” 

“And I will,” Loki starts, but he has to _try._ He would keep _trying_ if it meant being able to go back. “We can put this behind us. I swear to you - it doesn’t have to mean anything. It was only a kiss.” 

“But it wasn’t just a kiss for you, _was it?”_ Tony snaps, harsh eyes opening to meet Loki’s, and Loki _breaks. No, no no. He can’t know._ “I wouldn’t have taken it this far if I’d known that you’d-”

“Taken it.” Loki interrupts, catching on the one word. He feels both fear and anger seeping into his words as he continues. “Taken _what?_ ” 

“Nothing.” _A lie._ Loki didn’t think this could get any worse. “I need you to get out of my room.” 

“ _Taken what this far?”_ Loki presses again, because Tony’s hiding something, and if it provides even the smallest of explanation, he has to _know._

Tony doesn’t answer, and when he finally speaks, there’s a shiver in his voice. “ _Please._ Leave.” There was a finality in his words, so Loki shoved his question for another time. _If there is another time_ , a sinister voice in his mind adds. 

Tony isn’t even looking at him anymore, eyes focused somewhere to Loki’s left. He has a feeling nothing will be the same with Tony again, and suddenly, he finds reason to be in the tower anymore. Not wanting to prolong his uneasiness, Loki teleports out of Tony’s room in a shimmer of green. 

* * *

When Natasha suggested they keep an eye on Loki, Tony had merely frowned. Clint agreed almost immediately, followed by Steve, and then Bruce. Thor had hesitated - and that was enough. 

Most of the responsibility went to Tony. Befriend him, keep an eye on him, make him feel like a part of Tony’s life. 

Tony would be the last person Loki would suspect, which Tony wasn’t really sure if it was an insult, but he figures he can push aside memories of being thrown out the window if it meant keeping the god on a leash. Figuratively, _obviously._

Tony’s biggest weapon was his rambling - going on and on about things that do matter, things that don’t, until the person is comfortable enough to let their guard down. 

It started with the dagger. A small, undetectable - even with all of Loki’s magic - tracking device injected into the centre of the emerald that was fixed to the dagger’s butt. Tony was just about finished with it when JARVIS informed him of Loki making his way to the workshop. The timing was impeccable. 

When he held it out to Loki, he figured there were cracks in his facade, because Loki’s gaze had fixed on Tony’s face a moment too long. Loki had taken the dagger in his hands, admiration seeping through his face and Tony was _quite literally_ shitting bricks - because _what if_ Loki sensed the tracker? 

After a few minutes of familiarizing himself with the weapon, Loki had looked up at Tony - pure awe in his face - and thanked him. Tony had to push down the victorious grin that threatened to show up on his face as he shrugged off Loki’s gratitude. 

It was designed _for him,_ after all.

The next day, Tony had been busy making breakfast for himself when JARVIS informed him of Loki approaching the penthouse. He had thanked his AI for the update, and resumed cooking - all too aware of the elevators opening and closing. Tony didn’t really have an intention behind making breakfast, just used it as a chance to ‘assess the threat,’ if anything. God, Natasha was really rubbing off on him. When Loki had lit the stove, Tony was all too consumed in the new display of power that he would have almost burned himself if it weren’t for Loki. It was going fine, until Loki gave a somewhat passive aggressive reply - _“Of course.” -_ that Tony got slightly worried. But Loki gave no indication of being suspicious, so he brushes it aside as mocking. 

Giving Loki unrestricted access to his workshop was a risky move, but Tony had seen Loki eyeing several things around the workshop while Loki was there. Of course, JARVIS was on strict orders to train all weapons in the workshop on Loki regardless of the inventor being there or not. But the access move was a gamble - just to see what Loki would do if Tony _weren’t_ around. The inventor had been in his room when JARVIS told him of Loki’s whereabouts in his workshop. Concerned, Tony had asked what Loki was doing and JARVIS replied that the god was just standing there. Tony gave it a few more minutes, constantly asking JARVIS what he’s doing only for his AI to reply with the same thing, until he headed down to the workshop. 

Loki had frozen when Tony called out his name - and for a second, Tony thought he caught Loki in the act. Loki settles down after that, and so does Tony, hesitantly, but only slightly so. Every muscle and bone in his body were on guard whenever Loki was around. 

Nobody expected the Skrull invasion, not even the Skrull who wore Tony’s face - so Tony had to do what he did best. _Improvise._ Putting Loki as their eyes was just something off the top of his head, _but_ it gave Loki the freedom to move around without engaging with the civilians. Tony suspected Loki might use it as an excuse to cause his own chaos, maybe even switch sides with his shapeshifting abilities - and Tony could just as easily track him because, well, the god seemed to have the dagger in his possession at all times. 

Tony hadn’t even been able to register Loki’s presence before he was thrown back by an invisible force - no doubt Loki’s doing. It took him a while to get up, credit to the sharp pain shooting down his leg, to see Loki kneeling beside the Skrull Tony. For a small, brief, second, panic had flared up inside Tony. Loki thought the _Skrull_ was the real Tony, and Tony tried. He really did. Until the Skrull opened its eyes and the dagger flew straight into Tony’s gut. Piercing skin, and flesh and _muscle_ until Tony felt his knees give out. _Fuck. Fuck,_ he had thought, _this is how I die._ Unbearable pain, _A second try was all that the god needed to kill me._

Next thing he knew, Loki was beside him, holding him, apologizing, and in the blink of an eye, Tony was back in his penthouse. There was an apology, a _blinding_ pain in his abdomen followed by another apology, and Tony had promptly passed out. 

Tony didn’t think he’d see Loki again, at least for a week until he recovered - physically _and_ mentally. He’d made the rest of the team promise to keep Loki away from his room. The flashback of Loki holding him up in his neck, cutting off his air supply until Tony was _shaking_ in his struggle to breathe and then being thrown out of his window, shards of glass piercing his skin as the ground came closer and _closer;_ accompanied with the memory of the _pure hatred_ in Loki’s eyes when he flung the dagger at Tony’s gut, aiming to kill _or maybe even paralyze_ were memories that kept Tony wary of every single movement around him. Loki’s going to teleport into his room, and would _kill_ him.

Third time’s the charm isn’t it?

_Fuck._

And then, JARVIS had said Loki was _right outside his bedroom door_ and Tony couldn’t _breathe._ In just under a second, Tony had flung the blanket over him just as Loki opened the door. He could feel his heart thudding against his chest - _this is it. Oh fuck. -_ as quiet feet padded over to his bed. Loki had called out his name twice, the second only sounding more hesitant and softer than the last. Having no choice, Tony had pulled an act of waking up, asking questions that disguised the tremble in his voice. And then, Loki said some words that completely derailed the conversation, and next thing Tony knew, Loki’s lips were firm against Tony.

And _that -_ that was the last fucking thing Tony saw coming. God, this was the misunderstanding of the fucking _decade,_ because after _all_ that Tony had done to sabotage the guy, he hadn’t even realized the signals he were giving off because _of_ fucking _course._ And among registering the ridiculous turn of events, and the _guilt_ and the _fear,_ Tony let a word slip and Loki, _fucking Loki,_ was smart enough to catch onto that. Because of course _that’s_ what Loki would point out - why _wouldn’t_ he?

Tony couldn’t remain subject to Loki’s miserable gaze anymore, couldn’t let Loki pull the victim card, so he made Loki leave. Maybe - _hopefully -_ Loki wouldn’t come back, because frankly, Tony couldn’t take it anymore.

Couldn’t handle the guilt and the _anger_ and the _damn_ situation he dragged himself into because _f_ _uck, how did this backfire?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was just gonna be confrontational conversation where loki finds out about the whole team betraying him, but then tony's pov jumped into mind. and oh man, even i didn't expect putting tony's perspective but man oh man. i remembered while writing that i've never come across fics where tony just forgives loki for throwing him out the window to an inevitable death and i was like: huh. tony's pov would be fucking GREAT.


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